It's a short prologue so I've posted the first half of chapter 1 as well. Enjoy!
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Prologue
The typewriter was set up. She fixed in a blank sheet of paper. What she could recall seemed so far away. Remember, she told herself.
As she typed, the little machine cheerfully made a ring every time her words reached a new line as the paper shifted. Her dark brown eyes stared intently at her fingers dancing rapidly upon the keys. Tick tick tick tick, it was the only sound that filled the dimly lit room. Then, she stopped, thinking that something was out of place. She pulled back her black hair into a pony tail, letting her long fringe frame her bonny face as she adjusted her spectacles. Yes, she was more comfortable now. Her typing continued…
I named everyone in this story except myself with different names for the sake of their privacy. However, this story is very true. I was named as –
Someone called out to her from downstairs to eat dinner. Her thoughts reeled back to the present from the darkness of her past. She grabbed the paper from the typewriter, crumpled it and threw it in a bin. She didn’t feel like writing. A diary lay on the table beside her, seemingly grinning at the secrets it kept hidden inside. She reached out to take it, to read it.
The voice called again. Her hand retracted. Maybe she would write later. She got up from her seat with a light sigh and walked out of the room.
“What’re you writing about?” she was asked as she ate. Her body was slender and she looked young despite the few wrinkles upon her forehead that proved her to be in her thirties. She paused for a while to swallow her food.
The room was brightly lit, alongside the clanking of forks and spoons upon the plates. Then, an eerie silence filled the air as she replied, “Alena.”
Chapter 1 Part 1
A small shadow arose from a straw mat. The wooden walls that surrounded it gave a sense of awkwardness in the air. Something was wrong. Something was coming to the village.
“They’re here.”
The little girl looked up at her mother in the cold of the night. Her mother quickly turned towards her.
“Do you remember what I didn’t tell you until today, about who they were? What they will do? For your sake, you will let me and your father stay here to face it.”
A faraway scream made their fears ever stronger. No, it was not slaughter. It was far worse than that. The moonlight showed no sign of happiness, glum with a dim light. It only looked on at the carnage. The cries of torture came closer; one family after another. They won’t survive.
She looked at her father near the front door in a stance, ready to defend. His back faced her. Would she see his face again?
“Father…” she was grabbed before she could say more. Her mother rushed her to the back of the house. She did not struggle. She knew what she had to do; only that she didn’t want to do it. She couldn’t leave them.
“You run, and don’t look back. Run away to the woods but be careful. They are everywhere. They live in the woods, ready to ambush you any time. You will run swift, and pray that they don’t find you. Understand?” her voice was gentle but commanding. Her mother’s eyes seemed teary; it was hard to see in the darkness. The little girl felt her shoulders warm as her mother’s hands rested on them. It was the last touch.
She gave a small nod.
The front door easily banged open. Her mother had her eyes closed. A tear was falling. Then, before she knew it, she was on her feet on the harsh ground outside. She wouldn’t hear the screams of her parents.
She wanted to stop. She wanted to turn around. But somehow, she didn’t. Her mother’s voice kept ringing in her head. Don’t look back. The trees swiftly passed her as her speed amazed even herself. The branches clawed at her clothes but she made nothing of it. The unevenness of the ground tested her balance, urging her not to trip and fall.
Her hair flew with the wind, rugged and in disarray. She thought of nothing that she couldn’t even be sad or angry. Not even the question of what was going to happen erupted in her mind. She only knew to run away and not be found. Her legs were starting to ache and burn, but adrenaline kept her going. She did not falter or stop. But when would she stop?
Soon after, she fell to the ground. She tripped on a root of a tree and quickly got up with shock. Was someone after her? Was someone there? She just couldn’t see. She squinted but the tall trees of the woods only made it darker. There were sounds everywhere. The leaves on branches rustled with each other. She was not alone. There were night creatures of the woods. Then her feet darted again. The fear gripped her like a python, she could not let go of it and she was suffocating from it. But before she could move five steps, she fell again. She could now feel the fatigue. Her heart thumped and her breathing in angst. It was now that she gave up. She couldn’t run anymore. I’ll die here. She lay on the ground, before dropping unconscious.
***
“We already told you. Our people will not help savages such as yourselves,” Ismail looked straight into the eyes of the man in front of him.
“You are the leader among the people of your pathetic village here,” the man’s eyes demanded apprehension. “If you don’t do what we request, your decision will only cost them,” his eyes looked towards the villagers, already abused and battered. They weren’t killed just like that; the communists would torture them. Killing was always the last option.
“I’m sure we would rather die than cause more distress for other people by aiding you in this so-called quest of yours.”
“So you believe that the supremacy of this country is good? You think they will bring you Malays to thrive in your own homeland? The government doesn’t deserve to live. Making everyone equal will only benefit all of you who are still living in villages and fishing for your own food with no knowledge whatsoever,” he smirked, before signaling to have Ismail taken away.
Farizah looked at Ismail, her eyes still teary. They could not do anything to protect the village and the people. Everything was gone; each house was burned to the ground. They were in the hands of these Japanese communists now. Questions sprouted in her mind, doubting her judgment before all this happened. What was more important: their lives or keeping justice? However, Ismail always kept his word. He put his life on fate and always did what was right.
“At least…our daughter is safe,” he managed to sigh out to her.
“But she is only four years old.”
“If you doubt she’ll survive, why did you let her go?” he paused – looking at Farizah’s façade of guilt – then assured, “I know it seems unlikely, but have faith.” She smiled weakly, somehow knowing by her instincts that she will never see her little girl again.
